


Barricade

by philomel



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Action, Docking, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philomel/pseuds/philomel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which our heroes get stuck and have a meaningful connection.</p><p><span class="small">Set pre-<i>Children Of Earth</i>.</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	Barricade

It takes two laps around the outer hallways, doubling back to case one inner corridor then around the corner and halfway down the other corridor, coming up short at a gaping hole where the floor caved in, for Jack and Ianto to realize they're trapped.

They've blocked both stairwells against the approach of some sort of leather-skinned creatures with eyes where their ears should be and more teeth than seem necessary — not one of those a flat, benign little molar. Jack doesn't know what these things are called, but he'd bet all the buttons on his coat that they not only eat meat, but that human is today's house special.

Ianto peers straight-backed over the edge of the collapsed floor. "Just once could it be kittens. Fluffy alien kittens who want nothing more than to invade your lap."

Jack steps up beside him, toeing a loose floorboard that sticks out past the rim, seesawing every time he presses down on it. "I didn't know you were into bestiality."

Ianto ignores him.

Four flights below, the creatures stare up, their heads cocking to one side, then the next, as they appraise Jack and Ianto. Their thick nails gouge lines into the plaster walls. Jack reads frustration in the action. "They can't climb." He grins.

"They climbed the stairs well enough," Ianto says.

Jack grabs Ianto's elbow and guides him back down the corridor. "But we're fine as long as the barricades hold."

"And we're stuck as long they hold."

"That too."

They round the corner, checking on the doorway to the northeast stairwell. The pile of metal cabinets rattles where the door bangs against them, shaking their drawers, but they show no signs of budging. Making their way to the southwest stairwell, Jack squints through the dirty window panes, the thick squares of glass offering more pale grey light than actual view. Any movement out there could just as easily be a creature as it could be Owen or Gwen. He swipes his thumb over a block of glass, smearing grease instead of clearing it. He looks for something to wipe his hand on, considering his coat, then gazes up at Ianto's suit jacket — a dark charcoal grey not unlike the dirt on his thumb.

"No," Ianto says, quickly and resolutely.

Jack rubs his thumb and forefinger together, rolling his eyes. He tucks them, uses his middle finger to turn on his com. "Please tell me you've got something for me, Tosh."

Silence, not even static.

"Tosh?"

"Toshiko?" Ianto tries his. "Gwen? Owen?"

"Dammit." Jack rips off his earpiece, raps it against the brick wall. He shoves it back onto his ear, and looks up to find Ianto watching him with a raised eyebrow.

"Technological breakthrough?"

Knowing the result, Jack tries his com again. He growls anyway, shouldering past Ianto and thrusting his fingers up through his hair. He makes it to the other stairwell first. It's how he knows to warn Ianto to get his gun just as the door busts open, scattering tables and chairs, slamming back into the wall hard enough to crumble brick.

In the wake of dust and debris, Ianto sees Jack fly backward, land on the other side of an overturned desk. A creature advances from the stairwell, heading right for Jack. Ianto's thumb flicks the hammer and his finger squeezes the trigger before he even thinks to aim the shot. The bullet finds its mark anyway, through one milky eye and out through the other, sinking into a stack of crates, splintering the wood now splattered with dark, tar-like blood. The creature slumps sideways, nearly pinning Jack. But Jack's up, trudging past it toward the door where another creature has stooped past the threshold, another still crowding behind it, who knows how many more waiting.

Jack frees his gun and riddles both creatures' foreheads with a rapid succession of bullets.

Ianto ducks low, dodges their stomping feet and swinging fists to shove at the door. The nearest one falls just as a clawed hand curls around the door. One dense, yellow nail finds Ianto's arm, slices deep. The shock of it startles Ianto away from the door. He slips onto his knees, shrinking back as the creature's elbow links over the edge of the door, reaching blindly for him. Regaining his balance, he pushes with renewed force, almost has the arm wedged against the jamb when it pushes back, matching his strength. Behind him, Jack's gun spits out another string of shots as the door collides with Ianto’s cheek, jarring his vision.

Then the ground's shaking as another creature falls, and Jack's beside him, slamming the door hard against the outstretched arm. There's a scream that pierces through the steel door, ringing their ears. Ianto rears back, points his gun and fires at the creature's wrist. The bones shatter and it screams again. It yanks its hand back and Ianto leans into Jack as they put all their weight into the door. It clicks shut — a small, dissatisfying sound for all the effort they put into it, for the narrow escape they just managed.

Still, the creature they wounded, or another one moving up the ranks, doesn't give up that easily. It beats against the other side of the door hard enough they feel it in their bones. Ianto braces himself, back to the door and knees bent, while Jack jumps up toward the nearest piece of furniture. He drags over a metal table, a cabinet and machine that looks like it's meant for collating. It may not be enough for the time being, but it needs to be because there's no room for more _and_ Ianto. Together, they hurry to collect the desk, the chairs, the crates and any other scraps, doubling the barricade from its former state. The banging persists on the other side as they lug one creature, then the other, and heave them onto the pile as well.

Jacks dusts his hands. "Now that's what this was missing."

"Yes, I do approve of aliens who make themselves useful."

"And die easily."

"Easily?"

"All things considered, yeah. At least they die, full stop. And don't come back."

Jack and Ianto turn to look at the bodies. Neither stirs, and Jack laughs breathlessly while Ianto sighs and winces.

"One of them got you," Jack says, taking Ianto's arm and prodding gingerly at the bloodied wound. "Come on, where there's more light," he says, and walks them toward the nearest windows, pulling Ianto down with him onto the floor. He lets Ianto rest against the wall while he roots through his pockets, digs out something small and blue, and starts cutting carefully through the sleeves of Ianto's jacket and shirt. Ianto hisses when he peels away the soaked material, but clamps down on his bottom lip and nods when Jack pauses and glances up at him.

The fabric sticks but, once it’s free, Jack can see the wound is fairly shallow and has done most of the bleeding it's going to do. There's no doubt it'll need stitches, but for now Ianto will be all right. Jack cuts the rest of the cloth up to Ianto's elbow and around, cuts off the damp ends, then cuts the remainder into three strips. He leaves the cotton of the shirt inside the wool of the jacket, and ties each strip around Ianto's forearm. When he's done, he shuffles back beside Ianto, head thumping against the brick.

Overhead, the weak light filtering in from outside is beginning to wane.

The noises at the door are more sporadic. It fails to lull Jack into a sense of peace. He knows the creatures won't back off — knows it in his gut, even though he knows nothing about them other than what he's observed. He'll just have to trust that the others will come through like they always do. If they don't... well, he and Ianto deserve a rest until they fight their way back out. The odds are against them whether they start right now or wait a few minutes anyway.

"So, chances we can negotiate our way out of this one...?" Ianto's staring up at the opposite wall, eyes half-focused on a fire alarm.

Jack grins, one-sided. "Maybe they can be swayed by some of your coffee. I've often succumbed to your brewing prowess."

"I think I saw an old percolator on the floor back there."

"Problem solved!" Jack claps his hands together.

"On the first floor, through the enormous hole. At the bottom."

"Ah."

Ianto lowers his head, but Jack sees the small smile creeping up. That's what he wanted. He tries for more.

"So, I was thinking, if those...." He waves a hand toward the door. "Haven't been classified yet. I'm thinking of calling them Leather Men."

Ianto sits still for what seems a very long time. "Of course."

Jack leans to the side, shoulder to shoulder with Ianto. "No?"

Ianto turns his head, eyes still focused down. "Might be confusing."

"Might be fun." Jack is all teeth. "Lots of false alarms at S&M clubs."

"Hmm." Ianto's tone is bored, but he leans in closer.

Jacks slip a hand over Ianto's knee, fingers spreading out and up the inside of his thigh. "Undercover in leather pants." His fingers trace up the seam of Ianto's trousers, skirting past his crotch and dipping into the crease at his hip. "Maybe one of those fancy harnesses." His fingers reach up and brush over Ianto's belly, one nail tripping over the button of his dress shirt. He tips his head, lips featherlight over Ianto's chin, down his neck. "All trussed up and no place to go." Jack latches on to the patch of skin just below Ianto's jaw and sucks as his hand tugs at the tucked shirttails.

"Here?" Ianto says. "Now?" But it's barely a question, punctuated by the push of his fingers up the back of Jack's head, gripping tight.

"Here," Jack says, biting at Ianto's bottom lip. "Now." His tongue scoops under Ianto's upper lip as his hand shoves past the waistband of Ianto's trousers. With his wrist trapped, he can't get a good hold on Ianto's cock. But he can tease with his fingers. His thumb nudges at the foreskin, coaxing it back and forth over the head. His first and second fingers fork around the shaft, sliding up and down the hardening length.

Ianto gasps quietly against Jack's lips, then crushes their mouths together. He sucks hard on Jack's tongue, not at all mindful of his teeth, grunting as Jack toys with him.

There's a loud, wet sound as Ianto breaks away. "That's it," he says, and gets up on his knees, bringing Jack with him. He wrenches his pants open with Jack's hand still in them. The flaps haven't even fallen against his thighs before he's unbuttoning and unzipping Jack too, drawing him out, long and sleek in his hand. He tucks Jack's underpants down beneath his balls, already tight like he's on edge. With both hands, Ianto holds their cocks head to head. The opening of Ianto's foreskin drags and catches as it swipes back and forth along the tender pink of Jack's circumcised cock, all exposed and wet. Jack rests his forehead against Ianto's as he watches each pass, breathing so hard Ianto can feel it cooling the sweat at the base of his neck.

Slowly, Ianto slips his finger under the foreskin and gently pulls up. The folds of skin shift forward, meeting the very tip of Jack's cock.

Jack sucks in a breath and releases it with shaky laughter. "Do it," he says, eyes bright.

Ianto fists his own cocks and slides up. The foreskin unfolds above his fingers, stretching over Jack's cock, just past the rim of the glans.

Jack can feel Ianto's skin encasing him, linking them, trapping the heat between them.

Ianto pulls back, foreskin shrinking back with his fingers, freeing Jack's cock. Jack groans at the cool air. His hands knead into Ianto's shoulders, then shift up onto his neck, thumbs sweeping along Ianto's jaw and stroking the cartilage of his ears.

Continuing to hold both of them, Ianto grips himself harder. He sets a slow rhythm to start, guiding his foreskin over them and back, joining them and undoing them. Then Jack bucks, precome spurting out against Ianto's slit, trickling inside the snare of foreskin and Ianto jolts at the sensation and picks up the pace. It's sloppy and fast and his skin barely reaches Jack's cock most times, but they're rubbing together, skin slippery on skin, and it feels good, it feels amazing, it—

"It's coming from up here!"

There's clanging at the door, and Ianto comes all over himself. Jack's laughing, picking up where Ianto left off as they hear the familiar voices of Gwen and Owen calling from the stairwell.

Ianto slaps a sticky hand against his forehead, then draws back, cringing. "Fuck me."

"Mmm, yeah." Jack's cocky grin disappears into grit teeth as he comes, not losing a beat.

Ianto glares at him. Then he gets to his feet, tucks himself in, fastens his pants, smooths his shirt and straightens his tie. "We're here," he calls back. "We've barricaded ourselves in. Give us a minute."

Gwen's voice is muffled on the other side of the door but sharp with concern. "Are you both all right?"

"Yeah," Jack says, standing now too and fiddling with his buttons, not sure if he wants to leave his coat open or closed, wondering which would be more conspicuous and if it even matters. "We're good. Very, very good."

Ianto rolls his eyes as he begins dismantling the barricade. Jack joins him a few seconds later, poking at one of the dead creatures with a broken chair leg and watching delightedly as it tumbles to the floor. When they finish, Ianto pauses before opening the door. He gives himself a sniff, frowns. Jack chuckles and plants a kiss at Ianto's temple. He reaches for the door handle.

On the other side, Own and Gwen stand surrounded by a half dozen limp, leathery-skinned creatures, bazooka-sized weapons brandished over their shoulders.

Jack clasps his hands together. "Our heroes! You've rescued us."

Gwen gives Owen a look.

"What?" Jack says. "Let's go—"

"It's just. Funny you should say that." she says.

Owen's eyes dart to Gwen then back to Jack. He rests his gun on the floor in front of him, leans both hands on the butt of it and says, "I may have barricaded us in at the bottom of the stairs."

**Author's Note:**

> For raynemaiden, who wanted:  
>  _Torchwood, Jack/Ianto, any rating, in danger/stuck hiding in a building._


End file.
